


Some Things Never Change

by shanachie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie
Summary: With America at War, Bucky and Steve are facing changes while Steve makes a living drawing until something else comes along.





	Some Things Never Change

**Author's Note:**

> This fought me... pretty much every step of the way. And it's really not what I wanted. In any form. But it's two days until the end of the month. And it's what I have. Thanks as always to its_not_my_fault.

Bucky closed the door to the apartment quietly before toeing his shoes off, not wanting to wake Steve if he was sleeping. As he turned to move farther into the room, he realized the lamp on the table was still lit. “Steve,” he said with a sigh.

The blond haired head lifted from the page he was carefully inking. “Hey. Were you working all this time?”

Crossing the room, Bucky pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I stopped to check on Ma and the girls. Why are you still drawing?”

“Waiting for you.”

Bucky unbuttoned his shirt as he replied, “You’re going to make your eyes worse if you keep working in this light.”

“I need to finish this,” Steve insisted. “The publisher wants it by the end of the week.”

“Doesn’t mean you need to ruin your eyes for it.” Bucky came up behind him, carefully wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s shoulders, and glancing down at the page Steve was working on. His gaze heated as he took in the half-drawn lines of a new comic. Dark lines outlined two bodies; Steve had just begun to ink the details. Still Bucky could see the curves on the woman and the erect cock on the man. The man’s hand cupped one breast as the woman arched into his touch. “Mmm, that’s hot.”

“It’s not finished yet.” Steve attempted to bat his hands away and get back to work.

“You’ve got a good start.” Bucky dropped one hand to Steve’s lap, cupping a hand around his flaccid cock. “You can finish it easily tomorrow and come to bed.”

“Buuuuck,” Steve whined. “I don’t have enough paper to redo this if you make me fuck it up.”

“I’d never do that.”

Steve turned his head, accepting the kiss that Bucky offered. “Let me finish this part and then I’m all yours.”

“Promises. Promises,” Bucky replied, but he pulled away, going to where he’d dropped his belongings. He dug out the letter his mother had slipped him, opening it, and staring at the damning words. How was he going to tell Steve?

 

The next morning, Bucky slipped out of bed without waking Steve. After washing up in the communal bathroom, he was headed back to their apartment (and considering breakfast) when the door to the apartment next to theirs opened. “Good morning, James,” the woman greeted him.

“Good morning, Mrs. Cavendish,” Bucky returned.

“You came home awful late last night,” she continued. “Steven was worried about you.”

“I know,” Bucky told her. “I stayed late at the docks and then I checked on Ma and the girls. Steve was still awake when I got home.”

She frowned at that answer. “Don’t work yourself to death.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Cavendish,” Bucky assured her.

She harrumphed in reply and shut the door, leaving Bucky alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared at the closed door, realizing that Mrs. Cavendish had clearly checked on Steve while Bucky was out the night before. He knew his ma would send one or all of the girls over if Steve needed something, but the idea that someone was right _there_ was reassuring.

When he re-entered his apartment, Steve had woken up, but hadn’t made it out of bed. He brightened when Bucky entered. “I thought you’d left,” he admitted.

“Just went to the bathroom. Why don’t you go and I’ll see about breakfast?” Bucky offered.

Steve nodded in response and slipped from the room. Bucky turned to their kitchen, quickly making up a simple meal. He was just plating it when Steve returned. “Are you going down to the docks today?” Steve asked as they settled at the table.

“Actually I wasn’t going to,” Bucky answered.

Steve frowned in response. “What’s going on, Buck?”

Bucky took a deep breath, preparing to lie. “I’ve been thinking about it since we heard President Roosevelt’s speech and I’m going down to the recruitment office.”

Steve’s blue eyes lit up. “I’ll go with you.”

“No. Steve.” Bucky’s couldn’t think of a worse idea. “You need to finish the book,” he said, scrambling for a reason to keep Steve at home.

Steve nodded reluctantly. “I guess you’re right. Well, if I finish, I’ll make sure dinner is ready.”

“All right. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

 

 

By the time Bucky returned home that evening, he was exhausted. But he was fully registered for military service.

The next few weeks were hectic as the boys prepared for Bucky to leave for basic. Steve finished up his commission and then worked on a secret project, not letting Bucky get more than a glimpse of his project. In addition, he attempted to enlist himself, insisting that he couldn’t allow Bucky to go off to war on his own. “I can’t let you take _all_ the stupid with you,” Steve insisted.

Bucky thought he had finally convinced him it was a bad idea when he left for basic, only to come home and pull Steve out of another fight. He thought he distracted his boyfriend when they headed to the World Exposition of Tomorrow with friends, Bonnie and Connie, but Steve wandered off and tried to enlist again. He’d been so annoyed at Steve, that he’d abandoned his boyfriend. With everything that happened in the months to come, he almost regretted that he abandoned Steve that night, but as intrigued as Bucky was by the future, he couldn’t see then what was coming.

 

The letters they exchanged while Bucky was away couldn’t replace being together, but at least it kept them in contact. And Steve peppered his letters with drawings that let Bucky imagine he was back in Brooklyn. Steve also occasionally enclosed small books that Bucky secreted away.

Being sent to Europe was both the best and worst of choices. Bucky had been assigned to the 107th, the very unit that Steve wanted to be assigned to; the unit his dad had served in during World War I.

 

“Barnes!”

Bucky looked up from his book at the yell of his name. “What?”

Pond dropped down onto the cot next to Bucky. “What are you doing?”

After a minute, Bucky tilted the book towards him, showing the page he was on. “Looking at a book.”

Pond sat back up, reaching for the book. “Is that a Tijuana Bible? Where did you get it?”  
Reluctantly, Bucky handed the book over. “My roommate writes them sometimes. If he’s got a free moment, he makes them for me.”

Pond flipped through the book, whistling as he paused at some of the drawings. “Your roommate is damn talented, Barnes.” He flopped back on the bed, causing Bucky to shove at him. “Hey, you think I could borrow that sometime so I can look more at the pictures later?”

Bucky rolled him off the cot, grabbing the book away as he flailed. “No, you may not borrow my book.”

The other man popped up, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “You won’t share?”

“Not these,” Bucky replied. “I’ll ask Steve if he can send some other books.”

 

The next package from home included not just new books for Bucky, but also a selection for him to share with his unit. And down in the bottom of the box was a thicker package wrapped in brown paper with Steve’s familiar scrawl on it. _This is a new series that started a few months ago,_ he wrote. I managed to get copies of the first three books for you.

Eagerly, Bucky ripped it open to discover what Steve had sent. Emblazoned on the first cover were the words _Captain America_ and Bucky flipped through the book, easily recognizing Steve’s style. He slowed down after a minute to look more closely at the pictures, taking in the sculpted details of the ‘captain’ and the vapid beauty of the damsel. Although it wasn’t his normal taste, he enjoyed studying what was clearly Steve’s work.

“Sarge,” the voice of one of the men startled him out of his perusal. “You coming to chow?”

Bucky lowered the book to look the man in the eye. “Yeah, Jenkins. Gimme a minute.” Carefully, Bucky tucked the books away before going to join the rest of the men.

Two days later, it all went to hell.

 

The feeling of hands against the straps holding him down had Bucky tensing and then almost screaming with pain. Still he kept repeating his rank and serial number, “Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven."  
He thought he was hallucinating the voice he heard a moment later, “Bucky? Oh, my God."

"Is that..." His repetition of his rank and number broke off as he struggled to figure out if Steve was really there.

"It's me. It's Steve."

The hands against him were gentle, but Bucky was still confused. "Steve?"

"Come on." The voice attached to the hands helped him out of the chair and Bucky was able to focus a little better.

"Steve."

A hand patted his face gently and although the size was different, the gesture was familiar. “I thought you were dead,” the familiar voice said.

Bucky looked at him in confusion. "I thought you were smaller."

An explosion rocked the building and Steve pulled on him, trying to get him to move. "Come on."

Bucky stumbled as he tried to find his feet and keep up with Steve who was moving faster and more easily than he’d ever seen Steve move. "What happened to you?"

"I joined the Army."

That answer didn’t tell him anything, but it was so Steve. He looked the other man up and down, trying to keep his feet, but between the explosions and whatever Zola had been injecting him with, he was weaving and stumbling all over. Steve doubled back, grabbing a hold of him and pulling him along. "Did it hurt?"

"A little," Steve admitted. And Bucky knew that tone. It had hurt a lot and Steve didn’t want to admit it.

"Is it permanent?" Bucky wanted to know. He had to admit, this had some possibilities, if he could just think straight. And Steve wasn’t in danger of getting sicker.

"So far." Steve seemed to have some idea of where he was going, but Bucky was just blindly following. In the end, it didn’t matter where they were going; he’d always been willing to follow Steve anywhere. And in this case, as long as it was _out_ he’d absolutely follow… even if this Steve turned out to be an apparition. As they ran, Bucky could feel himself shaking off the effects of what Zola had done to him and he grew more confident that Steve was really there.

 

 

It took a couple of days after the rescue for Bucky to shake off the lingering effects of whatever Arnim Zola had done to him. Through it all, Steve marched patiently by Bucky’s side, speaking to the others when they approached, but always turning his attention back to Bucky. The now slighter man kept opening his mouth to say something to Steve, something more than _I thought you were smaller_ , but every time he got a good look at Steve it was a jarring disconnect. Still he loved the blonde and would always love him, no matter what he looked like. And no matter how big he was, it was still the same _Steve_ underneath. 

Finally Bucky felt confident enough to speak. “So. You just strolled into Schmidt’s stronghold and… found me?”

“No. I parachuted in and hoped I’d find you. Everyone had given up on you, but, hey, I’ve punched Hitler two hundred times so I figured…” Steve shrugged.

“You did what?!” Bucky yelped.

“After Doctor Erskine was killed, they gave me the choice of the lab or selling bonds,” Steve explained. “I figured I’d rather sell bonds because at least then I’d be helping somehow. But when I heard you were captured…”

“Steve, you’re an idiot!”

The damn puppy dog look was even more pathetic now that Steve was twice the size he’d been. Bucky sighed as Steve turned sad eyes on him, waving off the other men who’d turned towards them at his exclamation. “I couldn’t leave you there,” Steve explained in a low voice.

“You could have been killed!”

“But I wasn’t.”

Bucky gave serious consideration to attempting to strangle the other man. Or kissing him senseless. Honestly either reaction was almost a given when Steve was involved. Bucky sighed again as they were interrupted by Dum Dum Dugan, who drew Steve away, giving Steve a look to tell him the conversation wasn’t over.

 

When Steve returned a while later, Bucky was just finishing up a broken conversation with Jacques Dernier and Gabe Jones. He’d started to pick up some French before they were captured, but still relied on Gabe to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Steve fell in step with them, observing, but not saying anything.

“What was that about?” Steve asked as the other two men awkwardly took their leave.

“Which?” Bucky asked.

“They weren’t that awkward before,” Steve explained.

“Yeah.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “That might be my fault.”

Steve’s look was confused as they walked a few more feet. “What do you mean?”

“I think they’ve figured out that you’re the one who sent me the books.”

Steve’s neck was still the first part of him to turn red, but the tips of his ears soon followed. Bucky grinned to see the evidence of his friend. “I didn’t expect you to share those.”

“I didn’t plan to, but Pond came in while I was reading one. Pond is…” The words caught in his throat. “Was… a good kid. I shared it with him.”

Steve reached out, gripping his friend’s shoulder, the one gesture he could make in their present company. “I’m sorry.”

“He was one of the first Zola picked.” Bucky shook off his memories. “So explain to me how you ended up drawing Captain America books.” He lowered his voice. “ _Dirty_ Captain America books.”

Steve’s blush actually deepened. “I was contacted by a couple of my regular patrons and asked to draw Captain America. They didn’t know…”

“That you were playing Captain America?” Bucky guessed.

Steve shook his head. “Any of it. Your mom agreed to send my mail to me when I was on the road and I sent everything back to her.”

Bucky smacked him on the shoulder, shaking his hand when it stung; even as lightly as he’d hit the taller man. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

“What would you have done? You couldn’t come home. And I didn’t want you to worry, you had enough on your mind,” Steve insisted.

“Stevie,” Bucky lowered his voice. “Next time you decide to do something stupid, you’d damn well better inform me.”

“Before? Or after?” Steve asked with a grin.

Bucky couldn’t help the answering grin, glad to see how little his love had changed. “Before preferably.”

“So should I tell you now that there are some books that I didn’t make for money?”

For a moment Bucky stopped walking, then hurried caught up to Steve who’d kept moving. “What. Books?” he asked.

“Once someone checks you out, I’ll show you,” Steve promised.

Bucky growled lowly. It seemed nothing and everything had changed. Steve might be bigger, but he was still a tease. He almost couldn’t wait to get back to camp and see if anything else had changed.

**Author's Note:**

> _Author’s note: So this was supposed to be all about the Tijuana Bibles that Nyxelestia introduced in her series[Winter Wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/series/312872). But it kind of took a left and a right and a curve around the world. [Scroll almost down to the bottom to read about Tijuana Bibles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407363/chapters/30904824#workskin) A word to the wise, if you decide to google Tijuana Bibles, be prepared… they’re pretty racy. I also wanted to do something about Bucky being drafted. Because if you listen to his number… it’s a draft number, not a volunteer number. And I can see Steve volunteering and Bucky serving out of duty. [This is a copy of the letter Bucky would have gotten.](http://www.517prct.org/documents/brissey/brissey_induction.jpg) It’s still a bit off from that, but the draft did get into this story._


End file.
